


30 Days of Johnlock

by UponAtlas



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, BBC Sherlock - Freeform, M/M, Sherlock AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-25
Updated: 2013-02-25
Packaged: 2017-12-03 13:13:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/698646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UponAtlas/pseuds/UponAtlas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their meeting via Stamford at Barts wasn't their first one. No, their first meeting was more than eight years ago, in the middle of the Borneo jungle... when Captain John Watson shot the world's only Consulting Detective in his fine alabaster arse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	30 Days of Johnlock

**Author's Note:**

> Jumping on the OTP challenge bandwagon because it's 3AM and I make bad decisions at 3AM. Yay. This is slightly AU to BBCverse, because I have a military kink. So sue me. :)
> 
> Unbeta'd. Unbritpicked.

“Hey… Sherlock?”

“Yes, John.”

“D’you remember when we first met? Or have you already deleted it?”

_It was sweltering hot, with an unbearable humidity that caused a constant trickling of sweat down his body, and it had John mentally shooting himself for his decision to join the the Royal Marines. Commando or not, no sane human being ever wanted to be thrown from frigid icecaps to what, in comparison, felt like the fires of hell itself. He ran a hand through sweat slicked hair once more, grimacing at the moisture that clung to his fingertips._

_“Captain Watson._ _Private Saunders reporting, sir.”_

_John chuckled when the rookie saluted, clapping the lad on the shoulder. “Relax. We’re here getting shot at together, I don’t expect that much formality. Jefferson and Grant are out on surveillance with the Charlie team but once they get back, we’ll properly welcome you to the family."_

_“Boss!”_

_John smiled._   _“Saunders, this is Lieutenant Brandt.”_

_Brandt shook the private’s hand quickly before facing John. “HQ just radioed in. They said to keep on eye out for one of theirs.”_

_“An officer?”_

_“A civilian.” He corrected._   _John raised his brows incredulously but Brandt just shrugged. “Hell if I know, boss.”_

 _John contemplated HQ’s memo for approximately half a minute before he bypassed it for irritably ruffling his sweaty hair again, a movement that had already developed into a habit despite having been flown in just two days ago. John just knew that he was going to hate Borneo for the rest of his life after this tour. Biting back a sigh, he squared his shoulders and continued his watch, Saunders and Brandt standing as quiet sentries at his side, waiting for the rest of his team and Charlie team to return so that they could get lunch started. By midday, John’s eyes were glazed over from the unrelenting humidity, staring unblinkingly at the same three trees at the edge of their encampment. And it was the humidity that John blamed when he had to blink thrice before he processed what his eyes were telling him. There was a naked man running through their base._ There was a naked man running through their base. _For good measure, John blinked once more before bursting into action._ _  
_

 _“No, wait! Boss, I think he’s the-!” John’s movements were reflexive, born from years of serving on the front lines as he automatically whipped out his Glock, thumb racking the slide and squeezing the trigger. “…_ civilian _.”_

 _The word ‘civilian’ had the same effect as a bucket of ice water and kickstarted John’s brain into hyper awareness, even as the sound of the stranger’s body slamming into the ground and the bitten off shriek of pain had his heart drop into his boots. “Why the fuck is HQ’s civilian running_  naked _through our base camp in the middle of mother fucking_   _Borneo, Lieutenant?” John snarled as he shoved his handgun back into his hip holster and sprinted toward the fallen body. “Brandt, get the fucking medikit! Saunders, with me!”_

_He dropped to the ground and slid the last few metres on his knees as he scrabbled to get his water bottle free. The man was already pressing his hands onto the wound, applying pressure a pained grimace pulled tight on his face. John pushed his hands away and quickly uncapped his bottle, dumping his water onto the pool of blood being spread by the other man’s hands. Saunders shucked off his shirt and handed it to John, who used it to wipe away what he could of the blood and dirt that clung to the alabaster skin._

_“Sir, my name is Captain Watson. You’re going to be okay. You’re going to be just fine.” John said as he continued to wipe away the surrounding dirt and blood with one hand, his other pressed firmly onto the wound. “We just need to clean and bandage this, and then we’ll be able to call a chopper to evac you to the nearest hospital and get you properly patched up. Sir, can you tell me your name?”_

_“Sherlock Holmes.”_

_Brandt dropped down beside him like a godsend at that moment, the medikit already popped open. “Turn him over, boss. On his side.”_

_“We’re gonna turn you now, Mister Holmes. It’ll be just a moment.”_ _John felt his heart ache at the pained gasp Holmes released as they adjusted him; on his side with his head resting in John’s lap._

_“Sherlock. Call me Sherlock.”_

_“Alright, Sherlock. Now, brace yourself, this bit’s gonna hurt like a bitch.” John slipped a hand into one of Sherlock’s larger ones as he nodded to Brandt. He knew exactly when the alcohol hit from the sudden crushing grip on his hand and Sherlock’s loud hiss through clenched teeth. Once it was over, Brandt quickly and efficiently wiped the area before bandaging it tight._

_“Brandt, get back to the radio. Call for an medivac. Tell them to pick up HQ’s civilian. Single gunshot wound, a clean exit; he’s in pain but stable. Then radio Charlie team and tell them to haul ass back here. Saunders, go with him. Go.”_ _The two men nodded tersely before disappearing back to the centre of base. John stroked Sherlock’s wild curls as the man panted heavily, hissing every so often. Blue-grey eyes blinked up at him._

_“You shot me.”_

_“Just be glad I didn’t shoot you anywhere permanent, Mister Holmes. Like your head.”_

_Sherlock chuckled lowly, before curling up slightly, his head cradled carefully in John’s lap. “Duly noted. And much appreciated, Captain.”_

_And that was the last bit of coherency that John got out of ‘Call Me Sherlock’ before he stuck him with the morphine._

_John ruffled his short hair wearily as he and Saunders watched the apache leave with its precious cargo. He heaved a long sigh when the chopper finally disappeared from view. “That… wasn’t what I had in mind, but welcome to Alpha Romeo Delta team, Saunders.”_

Sherlock lifted his head from his violin to meet John’s eyes, a small smirk playing on his lips. “John, I doubt I’ll ever be able to delete the day that you shot me in the arse.”

“You mean unlike the solar system.”

“Oh, for the love of-!  _John_!”

**Author's Note:**

> I like to think that John brings up Sherlock’s utter cluelessness about the solar system whenever possible.
> 
> The prompt itself got about a ten word mention in a how ever many word piece… I would apologise but the brain does what it wants at 3AM. And sorry for any ridiculous tense changes. Like I said – 3AM.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed. Let me know what you think. :)


End file.
